Page 108 of The Atlas Maneuver

The man grew bolder, lunging and swinging.

Cotton fell back on one of the tables, dodging and feinting, but the lengths caught his thigh. He staggered as if hit by a hammer, his leg momentarily numbed. A quick follow-up strike could be a problem, but the blow did not come. Instead the guy hesitated, as if assured of success, and took a moment to grab a breath, chest heaving from swinging the heavy chain.

Big mistake.

One thing he’d learned long ago about a fight.

No retreat. Not ever. Hold your ground.

The man began to swing the chain in small circles, seemingly enjoying the anticipation of a final blow, stepping forward. Cotton waited to the last second as the man bounded in, cocking his arm. He lunged, not away, but toward the chain. For another millisecond the guy hesitated, then, instead of completing his swing, he protected it. Which left his body open and vulnerable. Cotton drove his foot into the exposed solar plexus. A whoosh of sour breath spewed out the man’s mouth and he doubled over.

A kick to the face finished him off.

The other man reappeared from outside with a knife.

Long, wide, serrated, a dull silver.

Sweat stung Cotton’s eyes.

He glided toward his attacker, pivoting on the balls of his feet, the knife swinging in a small circular motion of intense readiness. Cotton lunged, sliding to the right and resisting the impulse to move back. Instead, just as with Chain Man, he moved in, causing the slash attack to miss over his shoulder. He then caught the knife arm over his hip so that his body weight worked in his favor. Twisting, he flexed the guy and somersaulted him to the ground with a thud.

The knife spun free and he kicked it away.

He slammed his foot down on the man’s chest. The body convulsed, jerked, then went still.

He glanced up.

Aiko and her associate were gone.

He headed after them.

CHAPTER 60

CATHERINE DESCENDED THE STAIRCASE THAT DOMINATED THE FOYER, gilt banisters gleaming under the illumination of an iron chandelier. She exited the house through a rear door into a tiled courtyard, where she walked through an archway and emerged in the garden, the grounds intersected by wide gravel paths that formed a series of rectangles. Within them other paths radiated outward like spokes in a wheel from both a fountain and an enormous fig tree. Replicas of old lamps cast dim but adequate amber light.

She headed straight for the tent.

It was shaped like a traditionalcaïdal, draped in burgundy and royal blue and gold silk taffeta with sweeping sculpted peaks. An upholstered banquette wrapped the sides and blocked all views of the inside. She wore heels and a starkly simple black dress with a striking Van Cleef & Arpels necklace.

A present to herself.

The evening’s fading sunlight lay like gold leaf on the garden, the air pleasantly dry, the sky clear and without menace.

She stepped inside onto a wood floor that had been specially built in a series of alternating squares, or diamonds depending on the angle. Cloth-draped tables filled the space beneath the canopy, guests standing in clusters chatting. Sounds of conversationand laughter filled her ears. Servers circulated with trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres. A three-piece combo played soft music in a far corner. From the tent’s peaks hung three large, ornate chandeliers of black metalwork supporting electric Moroccan lanterns. Air-conditioning cooled the inside. She readied herself for the constant stream of introductions, as she was the star of the party.

Time to build a consensus.

She headed toward a podium that fronted a large LED screen and settled before a microphone.

The crowd quieted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the Bank of St. George, we welcome you to the first day of your new future. To set the tone, and start the night’s discussion, we have a short video for you to watch. So enjoy.”

The screen behind her came to life, the film narrated by her.

At the turn of the 2nd century the Roman Empire controlled all of Western Europe, parts of North Africa, and the Middle East. Between fifty and sixty-five million people lived under Roman rule, approximately twenty percent of the world population. Yet a mere 150 years later the empire was near collapse. Many factors caused the end, notably political disorder, corruption, slowing expansion, and constant war. But the worst malady was the debasement of the Roman currency, which led to overtaxation and inflation, which in turn caused a fatal financial crisis.

The physical composition of the Roman money itself is illustrative.